e x c e p t i o n a l
by S.N. Rainsworth
Summary: Because he was so much more than what they thought he was. And to think, it started with the assassination of Major General Conner Heifermann. / Two-shot. Gen.
1. Part ONE

_A oneshot, guys. A oneshot. It's not going to be continued. SO PLEASE, don't leave reviews saying 'I hope this is updated soon' or some shit like that. Don't put it on Story Alert either. For some odd reason, I always find people putting my one-shots on alert. It's not going to be updated! Really! Stop it with the expectations! It makes me feel like I have to do something...Also a pet peeve: C'mon, people, it's SCORPIA, as in capital letters for everything. It's an acronym. You don't see people typing in Usa, right? So don't write Scorpia, for god's sake. It's SCORPIA. _

_._

**e x c e p t i o n a l  
><strong>_slide and switch / move and hitch  
>watch me<br>_(because we're exceptional.)

_._

'You know, just because I agreed to be a full time agent doesn't mean that you have to interrupt my school hours all the time,' commented seventeen year old Alex Rider, a mocking smile playing on his thin lips. Brown eyes were focused on the man in front of him. 'I'm not getting enough credit as it is.'

'I apologize,' Alan Blunt said stiffly, not looking at all sorry. 'But this is an urgent matter.'

'It always is,' the blonde muttered under his breath.

Slate grey eyes stared intensely at the teen in front of him, who didn't even seem to be fazed by one of the most unemotional men in the whole world giving him the cold shoulder. He treated everything like they were living in the Arctic, after all. Alex knew that it was different now. After the last encounter with SCORPIA and Jack's death, he had recognized that his life would never be the same again. He wouldn't ever be able to walk the streets like he did when he was younger; he had enemies. Dangerous enemies. People who didn't care who was hurt as long as he was dead.

Alex was a born spy; like Alan had said once, it was in his blood. His father, his uncle, great spies—hell, even his mother was a nurse, most possibly at the fact because those two would get hurt so much. Ever since he could walk, all of his uncle's techniques were etched into him; spying was like breathing, stealth was like moving, he was the perfect human weapon. His young was going fast, but the doctors had assured that when he was forty, he would still look twenty due to his boyish facial structure. Joy.

So he gave up. Possibly the only thing he gave up on, but Alex didn't know how to live his life any other way. This was just how it was; he'd never keep going through life as a construction worker or a teacher or something equally civilian. No, he might get someone tangled up in this that he didn't want to. That was another reason; knowing that all of this shit was going on in the world, knowing that he could stop it, Alex figured that it was pretty selfish of him not to be doing what he could to stop it—especially since he knew he can. If Alan Blunt felt any satisfaction over the victory, he didn't show it. No, he continued on like it was expected of him. Alex supposed that was what he was grateful for most; everything had changed, but now he was hoping desperately that it would stay this way.

The director of MI6 pursed his lips. 'This is a man from the US Navy,' Blunt started, waving to the picture on the flat screen behind him. Alex was faced with a man who looked like he was in his late forties, with graying black hair and bright blue eyes. There were aging lines on his face and he was emotionless; like the perfect soldier. An ugly scar went down the side of his face that ruined the image. 'His name is Major General Conner Heifermann. German descent, although born in America. He moved to our country when he was five, lived here until he was sixteen, then moved back to the US. Joined the army at twenty. He's a large part of the community.'

Alex raised a blonde eyebrow. 'So...what?'

'Kill him.' Blunt stated, and Alex was a bit stunned by the small amount of _emotion _in his voice. A bitterness mixed in with slight loathing—or was that hate?—that anyone rarely saw in the director's voice these days. He was so surprised that was his mission implied went right over his head. Blunt started again, saying, 'He's been dealing illegal weapons to members of SCORPIA, COBRA, Blackbird, and a few other terrorist groups.'

The blonde shook his head, disbelieving. 'I thought he was in the army—'

'Not all people with power use it wisely,' Blunt cut in, his face as void as ever. 'That is how, I'm afraid, SCORPIA has been getting their nuclear weapons. We have no jurisdiction over interracial matters, but General Heifermann is a different story. He was spotted talking to contract killer, Nikolai Smirnov, an assassin that works for SCORPIA as well. Heifermann knows much about the organization, no doubt.'

'Shouldn't we bring him in for questioning, then?' Alex asked, bemused. It seemed as though this case a bit more to do with Alan Blunt than he was letting on; guess the man was somewhat human after all. Something else hit him as well. 'Are all Russians assassins?' The question was said more of an afterward comment, but Blunt caught it and raised an eyebrow.

'Not typically,' he answered. 'But most assassins are Russians, it seems, especially after the Cold War and breakup of the Soviet Union. Now, you shall be issued a gun—that you are allowed to use—and Mr. Smithers also holds a few things for your trip.'

The blonde nodded curtly. His eyes were trained on Blunt's every movement. 'You didn't answer my previous query, Blunt.' The way that he said the older man's name was filled with a sort of mocking despise.

'He's an _American _general. Taking him in for question—less than pleasant questioning, I assure you—is something that would be implying that we do not trust the US. That would inevitably end up in a political scuffle, which could cause us the loss of an ally.'

'I doubt that such a large thing would happen over such an insignificant man.'

Blunt stood in front of him, eyes steely, no longer lenient to answer questions. 'You will go to Washington DC and eliminate this man. You will come back when you are done and leave not a trace behind. The incident will be covered up by the press, I am sure. Until then, Agent Rider.' _An assassination. _If Alex could call himself something, it was a murder. He had killed countless before, but never was he the main participant of someone's murder (as in, specifically being asked to kill). Ah, well. The prickling in his mind wouldn't go away. If he had to kill, he would kill.

Alex raised an eyebrow and regarded the man in front of him. He was no longer asked to go like it was back when he was fourteen and their upper hand was the blackmail held over his head; it was an order, because he was just a field agent (_one of the goddamn best out there_) and he had to follow orders. It was something he learned a while ago. Resigned, he sighed, 'When am I leaving?'

Alan Blunt regarded him coolly, grey eyes flashing. 'Tomorrow morning.'

/

Ziva placed her thin fingers upon her temple; a building headache that throbbed behind her temples was starting to get the best of her. She didn't get much sleep catching the bad guy last night, and this morning there were a few..._malfunctions _with her alarm clock. Suffice to say, she woke up much earlier than needed and came before the mailman did. Then she was sent to look at a document for McGee—a favour, she claimed—and spending so much time in front of a computer made her eyes hurt. Adding in Tony's incessant chatter and snarky remarks, she wasn't having the best of days.

'Oh, c'mon!' her partner grinned from across the bullpen, 'It's Friday! Friday, Zee-vah!' Tony hummed under his breath, oddly chipper, ignoring the glare he got when he stretched out her name. The brunette man took a sip of his coffee and started his computer. 'Tomorrow's the day off for me. I can't _wait _'till I get out of here.'

'Hot date?' she remarked dryly, clutching her pencil a bit too hard. Now the headache had increased.

Tony shook his head, but he still seemed pretty happy. 'Nope. Spending some good 'ol time with Uncle Allen!' he gave a low chuckle. 'That man was always my favorite. When my dad was...ah, out of town, he'd always take me in to his beach house in Florida. It was a sweet place—we'd go fishing, hang out, tell campfire stories...' Ziva stared, amazed, as a nostalgic smile crossed Tony's face. 'It was awesome.'

He sighed and shook his head, still lost in thoughts. Truly, something was different today. McGee was actually harried for once, she had a head-splitting headache, and Tony was smiling and lost in thoughts about something other than undressing women with his eyes. Well, it really shouldn't have come as a surprise; there was something tender about his voice when he spoke about his relatives, especially his father, and she had overheard Gibbs saying that Anthony DiNozzo Sr. was a tender topic.

'That's...good,' she said, unable to think of anything else. 'Is that how you always used to spend time with him?'

Tony looked up at her, surprised that she was interested. 'Well, no,' he said slowly. 'We'd do tons of stuff...usually outdoors related...'

'Tony? Outdoors?' McGee walked into the bullpen, taking a seat at his desk while snorting. 'That's a recipe for disaster.' Ziva held in a chuckle as the taller brunette man narrowed his eyes. 'I'll have you know, McGeek, that I used to go camping with Uncle Al _all the time,_' he grit out. Ziva stopped the mirth; there was something dangerous in his eyes. He wasn't kidding. 'Uncle Al is a good man. Better than most.'

McGee seemed to have caught on to his mistake, because he flinched a bit and nodded his head furiously, stammering out, 'O-of course, I-I didn't mean to say a-anything else, Tony.' He winced a little as Tony narrowed his eyes, but got back to work. 'Ah, Ziva, are you done reading that banking document?'

'Yes,' Ziva started crossly, glaring at him. McGee flinched again. 'Honestly, I do not understand how one man could be so stupid with his funds! There are so many loopholes and clear instances where he could go bankrupts! I don't know how he has managed to go this far without failing economically.'

McGee raised an eyebrow. 'Are you okay, Ziva?'

'Of course,' she frowned. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

Her two coworkers shot each other understanding glances, ones that she never seemed to catch hold of. 'Well, you just seem...cranky today. Forgot your coffee? Having a bad week?' Tony said, grinning a bit. Ziva had the overwhelming urge to hit him with her computer—no doubt she could lift it high enough—but it was quickly squashed with Gibbs came strolling in, all cold facade and staccato reasoning.

'Grab your gear—dead Major General, found in his house by the house-keeper.' Gibbs stated, picking up something from his desk and stuffing it in his pocket before taking out the Revolver he kept in the drawer, fastening it to his belt. Ziva, McGee, and Tony did the same thing, grabbing packs and jackets; Tony placed his NCIS cap back on his head.

'Major General?' Tony queried, shrugging on his jacket. 'That's pretty high up, ain't it, boss? Lots of reasons to kill a person.'

Gibbs nodded his head once in the direction of the elevator. 'That's what we're going to find out.'

The home of Major General Conner Heifermann was large, beige, and carpeted. A handful of NCIS agents went around, taking photos of everything, while Gibbs entered the living room, taking in the scene. Ziva came up to his side a second later, camera poised in her gloved hands. 'He's upstairs with Ducky,' she said, nodding her head in the general direction. Gibbs nodded to her and started to walk that way, Ziva informing him about the victim in the process. 'Major General Conner Heifermann, 49, worked in the Navy Seals for twenty-nine years. He has given plenty of service to the country. He has divorced once and has two kids. Both live in Pennsylvania.'

'What have you got for me, Ducky?' Gibbs asked as soon as he entered the room, piercing blue-grey eyes falling on the man who was on the bed, scar marring the side of his face and greying hair falling in his face. There was a contended look on his face, but a bullet hole between his eyes, dark red blood pooling from it and dripping out the sides, long dry. Dr. Donald Mallard, their ME, looked up and smiled at his senior.

'Ah, Jethro!' he called exuberantly. 'Well, this man died from a direct hit to the brain, as I'm sure you know,' he grinned. 'The thing is, there is slight pressure on the bed—he was dead before he was on the bed, really, so my guess is that,' Ducky got up and pointed to the window directly across from where Heifermann stood. 'He was shot from that window and fell back onto the bed. Now, here's what I find most quizzical.'

The doctor motioned for Gibbs to come closer. He pointed to the bullet hole. 'See this, Jethro? This is the only bullet in this man's body. And, not to mention, it was right between his eyes—hitting his frontal lobe, disconnecting all functional systems and such. He was dead before he hit the bed. It was, in all retrospect, the perfect bulls-eye.'

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. 'An assassination.' he said, glancing at the body. 'And a professional one at that.'

Ducky nodded, standing up straight. 'I'm afraid so. The time of death is approximately around...oh, I'd say 0130?' He waved over to Palmer, who was nearby, waiting for the signal for Ducky to call him. 'Mr. Palmer! Would you help me with the body...'

Gibbs retracted from the scene of the crime, walking over to the window to see if there was anything for leverage. A bit sick, he realized that it was the perfect place to assassinate someone; the window was open, and the tree was more than sturdy enough to hold someone's weight. If it was last night, then the darkness would be able to conceal him perfectly. _This must've been an easy job, _Gibbs thought to himself, a bit irritated. _The assassin didn't even need to try. _That still didn't account for the gunshot; surely, somebody must've heard it, even with a suppressor.

'Tony! McGee!' he barked. The two agents jerked and walked over quickly.

'Yes, boss?' Tony asked, grimacing a bit.

Gibbs nodded to the neighboring houses. 'See if they heard anything last night. We're dealing with a professional killer.' Tony nodded and dragged McGee out the door, who was starting to stumble to catch up. They passed Ziva, who shot them a look and then walked up to Gibbs. She waited there, ready for his order.

'Check for anything that has been disturbed. Up in that tree, on the window, anything would be fine. Don't take too long.' He turned sharply and walked away, a stern frown on his face while Ziva turned to the window.

/

Alex Rider flipped open his mobile, leaning back against his chair. Currently, he was in a cosy little coffee shop that seemed to have a lot of people going in and out; he watched as they harried in, ordered, jumped in place, before grabbing their beverage and snack before hurrying out. It was amusing to see, somewhat. The shop had the lingering smell of freshly ground beans, something he found familiar. There were fully glass windows that allowed in a lot of light; Alex shifted the sunglasses he placed over his eyes to the top of his head, holding back some of his fair hair.

'Complete,' he said briskly as soon as the person on the other end picked up. 'I'll have you know that it was pretty easy. I don't mind having missions like these more often.' The blonde paused. 'Well, minus the killing.'

'_I'll run it by Mr. Blunt,_' Ms. Jones said from the other end, voice curt. She didn't sound like she was joking and actually _was _going to recommend this to the director of Special Ops., but Alex grinned. He knew this woman for years; it was blatantly obvious to him that she was joking. '_We have a flight prepared for you tomorrow. 11:00 AM, Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. What is your position currently?_'

Alex raised an amused eyebrow, even though she couldn't see it. 'On Howard Rd, opposite of Anacostia Park and near Howard Road Academy,' he repeated into the phone. 'What, no personal jet?' That was the form of transportation that brought him here.

There was a pause on the line before Ms. Jones said shortly, '_Next time._' Alex chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee, which was steadily growing colder. He wrinkled his nose; _London's much better. _'_Be careful, Alex. You're one of our best agents, but from your readings, you're too close to the Marine Corps Base in Quantico. NCIS works there; the police for the Navy, you could say. I hope you covered your tracks._'

He thought about this, leaning back once more, leisurely. 'I dunno. I can't remember if I left...' Alex trailed off, eyes widening. 'Oh, I scraped myself on one of the gutters...damn, wonder if there was blood residue...'

'_Alex._'

'Calm down,' he waved off. 'It was a distance job. I think they would be looking for someone who was up close; after all, it would make it all the more easier, yes? I'm safe. As soon as I get on that plane, they have no jurisdiction over me, even if they _did _catch hold of this.' A smile crossed his lips. 'Hey, do you think I can visit a few friends?'

'_What you do is none of my business as long as the operation is complete._'

'Right then!' he sang cheerily. 'Goodbye, Ms. Jones.' He could almost see her smile on the other end. Getting up, Alex left a tip on the table—motioning the waitress over—and left, throwing what was left of his cup in the garbage. He looked around for his class-three armored vehicle—an Austin Martin, the classical James Bond car.

The sleek, black car beeped in accordance to his key chain. He climbed into it and curled his hands over the steering wheel—despite being only sixteen, he could pass off twenty one if he tried. And he knew how to drive ever since his feet could touch to pedals; there was no worry about being caught if he drove like a normal human being, unlike most people he met in his life. Ignoring all the warning bells going off in his head, Alex flipped open his phone again, typing a number he knew from heart.

'_Hello_?' a deep voice said, slightly agitated. The blonde spy let an easy grin pass his lips; this man was one of the few people he knew personally and had no problem (not any that were said aloud) with him or his line of work. '_Who is this?_'

'Joe! Long time no speak.'

There was the sound of a crash and a beep, before Joe Byrne's voice started again, this time surprised. '_Alex?_'

'Yup,' the teen replied, making a turn. 'I'm in DC. How are you?'

'_Good,_' Byrne replied, all shock faded and now an amusement laced into his voice. '_Sorry, you called the office and I was expecting a call from one of my agents about a case. Their coworkers are with me for a meeting._'

Alex pulled back at a red light and glanced at his phone, cursing when he saw the number he had put in. Then, his mind repeated the sentence Joe had just said. Alex put the phone back to his ear. 'Are? You're still in it?' he frowned. 'Sorry if I interrupted. Do you want me to call back later?'

There was a shuffling, most likely of movement. Alex noticed the green light and kept going. It felt a little weird to be driving on the opposite side, but he tried not to think about it much. He would miss London if that happened. '_No, that's quite alright. I haven't spoken to you in, what? Two years? Still working?_'

'Definitely,' Alex said dryly. 'They're not planning to let me go anytime soon.' he chuckled. 'I'm here on a mission actually, though it's been completed. Cruising through DC right now, thought, "hey, doesn't Joe live in DC?" and thus led me to calling you. My flight's not until tomorrow morning.'

'_Leaving early, huh?_' Joe chuckled. '_Well, I suppose it's...nice to know that you're still working, but I'd rather you retired. You know, take a load off._' Alex had to smile at how his words were placed; careful, yet it could seem like he was talking to a fifty year old war veteran instead of a sixteen year old spy. _Smooth, Byrne._

'I'm still young,' he argued. 'I've got some fight left in me.' The sound of Joe laughing caused him to grin. Up above, Alex could see the Marine Corps Base, large letters printed next to it, "NCIS". He grinned, hitting the breaks when traffic got in the way once again.

'_Sure you do. Ah, Alex, I'm afraid I have to leave right now. I've got—_'

'Say no more, Joe,' Alex cut in. 'I'm seeing someone else too, stopping by to say hi. I'll talk to you later?'

'_Definitely._' There was the click of the phone, and Alex snapped it shut, throwing it on the next seat. A little while away from the place that he was planning to stop off at, Alex parked his car and stepped out of it, looking around and going to the other side, grabbing his phone. He walked to the entrance of the NCIS headquarters, flipping open his mobile and dialing another number he knew well.

/

'Report.'

That single comment caused the outbreak of hell upon team Gibbs.

'Ducky says that the bullet was the cause of death and was shot from a distance, preferably a few meters away. The tree is out of question. I've looked around the alleys and the sidewalks; nothing. No tracks, no scuffle, No fingerprints. The shot was straight, so Heifermann had to be facing his killer before he was shot.' Ziva informed. Gibbs frowned, eyes hardening.

Tony jumped in soon after. 'I've interviewed the neighbors, boss; none of them heard anything due to a serious part going on right next door. The music was loud, went on straight to three in the morning. Seeing as how Heifermann was murdered before that, just about...and hour and a half, when the party would have been at it's fullest. None of the neighbors were able to hear anything over the music.'

It was silent for a moment, but then Gibbs slammed his hand down on the table, crushing the paper he had in his hand. There was no doubt that he was angry, furious, that they had practically no lead and let the perpetrator go scot-free. He muttered a 'Ducky,' before practically stomping out of the bullpen—not literally, of course, but all of the members could see that he was on the inside.

Ziva sighed. 'I messed that one up.'

Tony cocked his head. 'I think we all messed that one up.'

'Yeah,' McGee agreed. 'And I didn't even have anything to do other than look up stuff on the General. Nothing important either.' It was obvious that he was displeased at this, but Ziva shook her head and moved a few pieces of her brunette hair out of her eyes. Then, looking at the fax machine over at Gibbs' side, she walked over there to retrieve it.

There was a ringing as she waited for the paper to come out of the machine. 'Uh, Ziva?'

The ex-Mossad agent turned around. 'What?'

McGee held up her small, silver phone, too far away to make out the black on LCD blue writing. Ziva thought for a moment and then shrugged, turning back to the fax machine. She called to McGee and Tony (because it was so obvious that he was looking in), 'Put it on speaker phone.'

There was a slight shuffling as the two male agents did so. Ziva turned around and put the papers in a nice stack on Gibbs' desk, her eyes flickering across them quickly as she took it in her mind. 'Hello? Ziva David's phone?' Tony called in jovially.

'_Ziva?_'

Immediately, the brunette woman jerked, her brown eyes wide, looking toward her phone. Her coworkers took in her reaction carefully; Tony with his eyes hardened. She lurched forward, bumping her hip into Gibbs' desk before skillfully taking the phone from McGee's numbed fingers. She didn't even shoot both of them a glare; instead, she took the phone and breathed out, 'Alex?'

You could practically hear the grin in the man's face. '_Ziva! I haven't seen you in a year. How are you?_' Ziva cradled the phone in her hands with a bit of awe, almost like she couldn't believe who it was on the other side of the phone. Tony was eerily silent as they observed the conversation and McGee was shifting nervously, not sure if he should intervene. Ziva replied, 'Just fine, thanks. What happened, Alex? The last time I saw you I thought you were dead. And here you are, calling me on my phone.'

There was a silence on the other end, like Alex was uncomfortable. Sure enough, there was a chuckle. '_Yes, well, long story really. Fabulous one, I'm sure you'd love to hear it. Kinda faked my whole death and everything. Kept the other side away for a while, I've got to say. Didn't think they were that stupid. Hey, I'm only in town for one more day before I get back to England; sadly, this is a trip of strict business._'

An uncharacteristically warm smile crossed Ziva's face. Tony found that she had forgotten that they were even there! And this _English guy _was on speaker phone! He could hear every one of their obvious flirting! 'Then why are you calling me?' she said, walking over to her desk and sitting down. 'I know your superiors will kill you if you laze around.'

'_Ha, yeah, I think you get that. We're in the same business after all. Used to be, I should say._' There was a mirthless little bout of laughter; Tony and McGee shared a glance. The speaker continued on, an amused tone in his voice. '_Anyways; my plane leaves tomorrow morning. Want to grab a cup of coffee? Catch up a bit?...That is, if you're not busy._' Tony had half a mind to grab the phone and press 'end', remarking nastily that they had a potential cold-case on their hands and Ziva was busy, but the smile on her face begged to differ.

'Of course! Where are you right now?' she had started to gather up her stuff, her purse and her coat and all of those essentials. Tony muttered, 'You can't go out without Gibbs' permission for an early lunch break,' but Ziva shot him one of her patented glares and he shut up.

Alex laughed from the other side, a deep sound. '_Well, love, you'll know if you look outside that window to your right._' Everyone who had heard that seemed to freeze. Ziva was the one to move first, regaining her composure. She ran to look out of the large ceiling-to-certain-height windows, as did Tony and McGee.

A young man, handsome, looked up at them with a mischievous smirk on his face. His hair was a sun-kissed blonde that flopped over his forehead, but his skin was smooth and fair. He had a pair of deep brown eyes the colour of chocolate and had lean muscle; he winked at Ziva, who laughed. She tucked hair behind her ear and smiled widely, 'You're always so typical, Alex.'

'_Yeah, but I betcha didn't expect that._' They saw his lips move and heard his voice at the same time, which was odd in itself—it was like a disconnected phonograph. He gave them a crooked grin and slapped his phone shut, causing a dial tone to ring in their end. He winked and jingled his car keys in front of them, throwing it up in the air and then catching it again. He pointed to a sleek black car in the parking lot. Tony's jaw dropped open.

'No _way,_' he breathed. 'He has the James Bond car!' There was a mix of awe, jealously, and incredulity in his voice. 'Those things cost thousands!'

Ziva hid a smile and turned around, grabbing her purse and coat. Gibbs came in to the bullpen, eying her and raising a brow. Ziva met with with cool, confident stature, but there was something twinkling in happiness in her eyes. 'Gibbs, may I take my lunch break now instead of in an hour? I'll be back ten minutes earlier, I promise.'

Gibbs was about to open his mouth and say something along the lines of 'not abandoning the team for a lunch date', but then he saw Tony's disgruntled expression and McGee's one of amusement. Looking back at Ziva, she was more happier—excited might be the word—than he had ever seen her. With a shrug, he sat down. 'Take the whole hour.' A large smile broke out on her face and Tony gaped at the both of them.

'Boss—!'

'Thank you, Gibbs,' she said courteously before running to the elevator, disappearing a second later. That, in itself, was an oddity; how much of an influence was this British person on her life that she would _run _to the elevator for something other than a code-red situation? He didn't think Ziva could be this happy. Not that she wasn't capable, but rather she was collected and took everything in with a sense of practiced ease.

'Tony!' Gibbs barked. 'Go see if Abby has anything other than standing around like a gaping fish.'

/

Ziva gave her long-lost friend and coworker a large hug when she came downstairs. Alex stumbled back a little but hugged her back; he was bit taller than her. Chuckling, he patted the Mossad agent on the back. 'Nice to see you too, Ziva.'

She pulled back immediately. 'You are one of the few people that I actually _enjoy _working with and having the company of. To find out that you _aren't _dead...well, don't you think that I deserve to be a little over-the-ceiling?'

Alex laughed, leading her across the parking lot. 'I think you mean over-the-top, Ziva.' She waved this away with a wrinkle of her nose. 'Whatever. You still never showed me that instant knockout move back in Lebanon.'

'Ah,' he shook his head, unlocking his car and motioning for her to get in. 'You never forget anything, do you?'

'Nope,' she answered needlessly, smirking.

He started the engine, placing himself behind the car's wheel, ignoring her protests that he was minor and she should drive. 'My car, I drive,' he said to her seriously. Then a grin broke out on his face. 'Besides, it's new. I don't want it to be totaled.' She had rolled her eyes at this, but leaned back; Alex Rider, was after all, one of the only people that could get away with a stunt like that.

Ziva took careful notice of the guy that worked with her when she was fifteen. It was talk of a terrorist attack that would wipe out half of Lebanon back when Alex was fifteen; at first, she couldn't believe that she would be working with a _fifteen-year old. _It had to be some sort of joke; MI6, one of the most prestigious secret services in the world, hiring a kid? She went along with it however, hiding her incredulity and her disgust that MI6 would use a child for their grunt work. Slowly, she had gotten used to him. Slowly, she started to trust him out of her own will. He was much more observant and experienced than any other spy she had seen so far; that, added with their added interests, had made for a lasting friendship. Ziva was devastated when she heard of his apparent death; Alex was like a little brother to her.

'Where are we going?' she asked. Alex shot her a sideways glance and a cross between a smirk and a smile played on his lips. 'You'll see,' he said enigmatically. Then, after a brief pause, he said, 'So, you're working for NCIS, huh?'

She nodded, a fond look on her face. 'Yes. They've been very kind to me; Gibbs especially. He may seem tough, but...he's just the fatherly type underneath.' Ziva fell silent after that, a dark look in her eyes. Alex glanced at her, worried. He knew about Eli David and what he had done to his daughter, what he made her do; Alex experienced the same thing, he supposed, with Ian Rider. Both trained to be spies and survive in the world of espionage since childhood.

'Good,' Alex said, shooting a pointed glance in her direction. 'He sounds like the type of guy I'd like. How is the work? Everything okay and all? No problems?' he sounded over-worried, something that she found was endearing with Alex; he always worried too much.

'Yes, I'm fine, really! The cases are fairly easy, although there _are _some...well, _interesting_ murders,' she said lightly, causing Alex to raise an eyebrow as they turned a corner. 'There are hard cases as well; once, there was this port-to-port killer than we were stumped on for weeks...and we've had to reveal a cold case once in a while too.'

'Sound like fun,' he interrupted wryly.

Ziva laughed at his tone. 'It's a little frustrating sometimes, but definitely worth it. I've made memories there, definitely.' They stopped in front of a deli, right in front of a little park that swirled on for miles; people lingered back and forth, a large, grandiose fountain in the middle of it all. The pavement was red-bricked but gave off a pleasant look next to the green grass; there was the sound of tinkling bells and children laughing.

'It's...very you,' she commented, coming out. 'I like it.'

'Thanks.' Alex said, grinning. He'd been doing that a lot today—inwardly, he thanked Ziva for giving him a distraction against what he had done yesterday. He could feel the headache of guilt just above his head, waiting to drop and crush him. Alex started to walk, leading the way while Ziva followed.

'So, tell me more about your life right now,' he prodded.

The brunette thought for a while, then started again. 'Well, sometimes there are smart killers, which leads up to a tough case...like the one I'm on right now.' Her face screwed up a bit before she sighed. 'Don't tell Gibbs that I told you about this. But this case, he's really hitting a dead end. We all are. We've got the bullet, the position, but we can find no evidence. There's no one linking to this case. All the people we've interviewed don't seem to have gotten on the General's bad side, so there's no suspect, even.'

'General?' Alex repeated, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Ziva bit her lip, looking like she wanted to chastise herself, but then sighed. 'Oh, I know that he'll keep it quiet,' she said to herself consolingly before turning to her blonde friend. 'Yes. Major General Conner Heifermann, an important man in the US Navy was found assassinated yesterday night.'

Alex felt himself stop in his tracks; he knew the warning bells in his mind were starting to go off, but now they were on danger zone. Ziva stopped when she noticed that her partner wasn't following. She turned back, staring at a stunned Alex, who was gazing at her with raised eyebrows, a white face, and wide eyes. Immediately, her suspicions went up—as well as a bit of fear. 'Alex?'

The Brit seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. 'I-I'm sorry,' he muttered, catching up to her. 'It's just...'_ undercover can't say don't blow it lie lie lie alex rider she can't find out **lie**._ '...that name is a bit..._hated _in the MI6.' Ziva turned attentive, her face serious, all past emotions wiped off. _Ah, there's the Ziva I know. _

'Why?' she interrogated.

He took a deep breath, looked around discreetly to see if anyone was looking, took a glance at the treetops for cameras (it had been done before). Then, he took her by the elbow and said under his breath, 'You know of SCORPIA, yes?' Ziva flinched. Alex could practically feel the hate roll off of her in waves, but she nodded. 'Well, back at headquarters, it's well-known that Conner Heifermann sold nuclear weapons to SCORPIA. He was probably selling state secrets too. His monetary value doesn't match up with his paycheck; SCORPIA has been giving us a hard time with those new weapons. They stashed it in India, but we got it out in time before they managed to knock the Himalayas down.'

'That's...' Ziva seemed at a loss for words, and Alex nodded, retracting from her. A part of him felt guilty for lying, but he couldn't reveal himself now; he had finished the mission. Besides, he didn't know how Ziva would take it, even though she knew of his assassin-like tendencies. The brunette shook her head. 'This is big. I have to tell Gibbs.'

Alex shot her an alarmed look, and she understood the meaning of it. 'I won't tell him where I got it from, but trust me; I think they'll figure it out as soon as I come in with the news.'

The blonde spy shrugged. 'As long as my name isn't mentioned, I'm good.'

/

Gibbs, Tony, and McGee all stared at her in shock and—in Gibbs' case, silent approval—as she listed off the facts that Alex had told her a few moments ago. After all of that, they stood in a good silence before McGee was barked at to find out everything about SCORPIA.

'Are you sure that this is credible?' Gibbs asked, looking at her sternly. Tony crossed his arms and waited for her answer.

Ziva nodded. 'I trust this source very much, Gibbs.'

'Would this source be that man that you walked off with for your lunch break?' To both the agents' surprise, a warm smile spread across the Mossad agent's face. Ziva shrugged, saying, 'I'm not allowed to tell.'

'Why not?' Tony queried.

The brunette shot him a look that said not to ask, but when Gibbs looked at her, questioning, she sighed. 'I'm under the Official Secrets Act. I can't tell you anything or else I might die.' There were eyebrows raised at this, but Gibbs stepped closer, blue-grey eyes hard and serious. 'Official Secrets Act? Isn't that in _Britain?_'

Tony gasped, as if he got a revelation. 'That guy! On the phone, earlier! He had a British accent!'

'Nice job figuring out the obvious,' Ziva rolled her eyes. 'Yes, he did have an accent. He's like a little brother to me—I thought that—'

'He was dead,' Tony recalled, smirking when Ziva glared at him; apparently, this wasn't what she was going to say. 'His name was Alex too, if I remember correctly. And had the cool James Bond car.' The green-eyed man nodded approvingly, and Ziva rolled her eyes as Gibbs simply shook his head; Tony would always be Tony, no matter what.

'Boss!' McGee called from his station, his blue eyes wide and face coloured with a pallor. 'U-um...I think you'd want to see this on the large screen.' He got up from his seat, stumbling, and fumbled with the remote; he was really nervous, something that did not go unnoticed between the other agents. He pressed a button and before their eyes, windows upon windows of information came popping up, one over-lapping the other, not stopping for a whole two minutes. Tony breathed, 'God_damn._'

'SCORPIA is the largest criminal organization in this world currently,' McGee said, throat oddly dry as they stared at the large letters in front of them. 'It's...horrible, boss. I got tons of hits—they're known all over the world, by every government agency. These people have done it all; terrorist attacks, bombings, massacres, assassinations, torture, causing battles and wars; and then there are much more serious stuff, like trying to send a virus that would kill all the children in a continent, forcing a ground-zero country to go to war against themselves—I...I'm starting to think that if General Heifermann sold nuclear _weapons _to these guys...' he finished it off with a shudder and a disgusted look on his face.

'We still don't know how he got the weapons.' Tony pointed out quickly, noticing the dark look on Gibbs' face when McGee mentioned 'children', knowing that his boss was thinking that it was better if this guy was dead if he was helping SCORPIA. In fact, Tony was starting to think like this too. Ziva had an emotionless look on her face. 'I think the General might've smuggled it from the Navy or something...'

'Me and my friend,' Ziva started slowly, pronouncing each world clearly, 'We had a mission once to go undercover and take down a major bombing trade between SCORPIA and some other smaller organization once.' Everyone was paying attention to her now. 'My friend has been targeted by this organization a lot. He knows a lot about SCORPIA, the world's leading expert on them. He's been on their hit list for a while now, so you can trust him.'

'This wouldn't happen to be Mr. Blonde James Bond, would it?' Ziva glared at Tony, but she didn't deny it.

'Do you think he could help us in this case?'

Ziva sighed. 'I have no doubt. But Gibbs, this is much more than an assassination right now; SCORPIA's involved, and I've been against them before. Usually, with them, everything is intricate. Are you sure that we should continue going on? I think we should tell Director Vance.' she bit her lip. 'He might be able to help.'

Gibbs nodded. 'Put him on speaker.' Ziva was on her phone in a second.

/

'SHIT!'

Alex felt the car swerve roughly as he spun the wheel, inwardly cursing the Americans and their reversal of the _right _side of the road to drive on. Well, it was his own personal opinion, being raised in England and all, but sometimes it got on his nerves. Like right now. At first, it was just a casual glance in the rear-view mirror; a force of habit. Now that habit was coming in good. The same car had been following him for two blocks now; he had dropped off Ziva at NCIS headquarters and now he was planning to get back to his motel, but now he couldn't. Soon enough, he had gone off course to get away from the perpetrator that was following him; it ended up as a car chase in the middle of DC with guns aimed at his car.

There was the sound of another round, possibly hitting his car or not; he had to admit, these people weren't very good. None of his windows were shattered, but he was guessing that the hood had to be taken a good look at. The tires weren't flat either; that meant that this was probably an amateur chasing after him...or they had some elaborate plan and Alex was driving right into their trap. Well, he would take care of that later. He had to get away from these people—they had, after all, opened fire first.

He turned into another wider street, having people curse and honk their car horns loudly at him in outrage. Alex looked back quickly to see how many there were; one in the front seat that was driving and another in shotgun. 'Oh, I have the worst luck _ever_.' he groaned. Two people meant twice the efficiency—_well, if they were professionals, _Alex thought to himself, smirking. _Which, apparently, they're not. _

The sound of his phone ringing made him jump and his hands left the wheel for a second, almost crashing into a blue van before he got control of it again. Glancing at the LCD screen, he sighed in relief when he saw who it was—Ziva David. She sure had good timing. Immediately, he flipped open the phone and threw it on the passenger's seat, on speaker phone.

'You have the worst timing, Ziva.' Alex said loudly, out of breath, as he looked beside him.

He could practically _hear _her frowning. '_Alex? Are you okay? What are you doing?_'

'Oh, nothing—_shit _they got the back window.' Alex cursed profoundly as a bullet made it's way to the right side of the car; at least there was still some shards of broken glass that covered his side. The car was armored, yes, but they were in civilian streets and if he brought any of the big guns, he could hit something or someone.

'_Are-are you in a _car chase? _Is someone shooting you?_'

'Right on the dot,' he said dryly. 'Now you understand your bad timing.' The blonde turned opened his glove compartment and took out his own MI6 issued gun, spotting the U-turn up ahead and with one hand on the wheel, clicking the safety off. 'Ah, listen this better be really important because I've got some bad guys to kill. They destroyed my car!'

'_Ah..._' She seemed to be thinking something over, and Alex took this time to sharply turn around, possibly hitting another car. He breathed, 'Ow,' as he was jammed against his car door, but then recovered and held his gun out to the other car, a black Toyota with a—

'Oh, _fuck._' he breathed loudly, eyes widening at the small silver scorpion that stood on the front, before shooting blindly three times. The tires of the car screeched to a stop, and Alex knew that he must've either got them or a tire. He sighed in relief and took his gun back in, looking toward his phone and back outside, just in case anyone else was following him. He ignored Ziva's calls of '_Alex? Alex!_' over and over, instead looking back and groaning.

'That's gonna cost a lot,' he muttered furiously as he picked up the phone. 'Okay, so what is your death-defying reason that you needed to call me? I was a little busy, sorry.' There wasn't any sign of sarcasm in his voice, but Alex was a bit tired; he got easily irritated when he was tired.

'_First, tell me who was after you._'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Why do you think I know the people that was after me?' A pointed silence. He sighed. 'Alright, alright. I think that someone spotted me somehow between all of this—'m not surprised, really—and decided that they could take a cheap shot at trying to assassinate me. Did a messy job too. I'm not even harmed. Well, except for that nasty jam...' he shuddered, knowing that Ziva was half annoyed with him for dragging this on and yet soaking up all of the information. 'Anyways, I believe if I'm right, it was SCORPIA who was after me.'

/

'_...SCORPIA who was after me._'

There was a collective silence in the bullpen as Gibbs' team froze, looking at the disembodied voice that was telling them all this information. McGee stopped typing in his computer. The coffee cup that was making it's way to Tony's lips stilled. Ziva stared at the phone with wide eyes. Gibbs was still, unnaturally so, glaring intensely at the phone before looking at the female officer holding it.

'Alex...' Ziva started, sounding resigned, but there was a short laugh on the other end. '_Don't worry about me. I'm still alive, and that's what counts, right? So, what do you want to know? I'm guessing that your team is there with you. Possibly on speakerphone, seeing as how one of your teammates dropped something when I said SCORPIA, right?_' Ziva and Gibbs glared at Tony simultaneously before Alex continued. '_Tell you boss that I'm glad he's taking care of you. And that if anyone tries to flirt, I'll massacre them._'

'Alex!' she barked, a mixture between scolding, exasperation, and plain amusement in her voice. Her eyes flickered to the ex-Marine, who had a small smile playing on his lips. 'Can you tell us about SCORPIA? You were right, Major Gen. Heifermann was tied in immensely with the whole thing and most of it is under classification.' _The details, anyways, _she added in her mind.

There was a pause, a screech of tires to show that Alex had possibly turned. '_Go into a private room or something. This is for your ears only._' Ziva looked up at Gibbs, who nodded curtly and motioned to McGee and Tony to follow him into the elevator. As soon as everyone was in, he flipped a switch and the elevator stopped, the lights shutting off.

'Talk,' Gibbs said tersely.

'_...I think proper introductions are in order. I might get confused with your voices, hearing them now, sorry._' Tony raised an eyebrow at the sudden change, but then he supposed it was appropriate. '_I'll start first, I guess. My name is Agent Alex Rider. I work for the MI6. SCORPIA is an old, _personal _enemy of mine,_' he said, snarling slightly at the end before his voice returned to normal. '_Your turn._'

'Special Agent Gibbs,' said the silver-haired man shortly. 'Leader of this team.'

'Special Agent Tony DiNozzo,' Tony said, grinning. 'I'm a Senior Field Agent.' He smirked at Ziva, as if to prove something. She wrinkled her nose at him.

Finally, McGee spoke up from his corner. 'Special Agent Timothy McGee,' he inputted. 'You can just call me McGee, though.'

'Or McGeek,' Tony added. 'Probie's good too.' Gibbs shot him a glare and he shut up quickly.

There was a smooth chuckle from the other side. '_Nice to meet you all. Now, what do you need to know? I can only tell you some things, I hope you understand, because the rest is classified and I can probably loose my job if I do tell you._'

'What is SCORPIA?' Gibbs asked.

A sigh. '_SCORPIA...it's the largest, most dangerous criminal organization in the world right now, as I'm sure you know. It was formed about a decade and a half ago, with a few leaders and almost no ammo to back them up. They've grown stronger over the years, however, and they've certainly made a namesake. SCORPIA stands for **S**abotage, **Cor**ru**p**tion, **I**ntelligence, and **A**ssassination._'

'What's their goal?' Tony spoke up, looking serious.

There was a pause. '_Well, it was founded in the eighties. A bunch of ex-intelligence spies sort of saw the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Soviet Union; they decided that they would band together and use espionage and assassination to make money. And somehow, it got much bigger than that until it grew to the size of what you see now._'

McGee spoke up, almost choking. 'That's _it? Money?_ They do all this for _cash?_'

'_And power,_' Alex cut in smoothly. '_Those things can corrupt a man's mind, make them blind. SCORPIA also specializes in revenge. Trust me, I know._' There was something so bitter in his voice that no one dared to say anything for a moment. '_The only way to take down SCORPIA is to do what I did—kill them off slowly, tear it down brick by brick. Going at it all at once won't help. Picking at them until they fall apart usually brings them down a notch. Almost had them too._'

'I'm sorry about that,' Ziva finally spoke up, blushing now. Tony raised an eyebrow; Ziva _never _blushed. 'It was an accident.'

'_I know it was. Don't blame yourself._'

'Do you think you can come to NCIS headquarters? Talk for a bit?' Gibbs said, something stirring in his mind. Alex seemed to think it over. '_As long as it's not an interrogation, Special Agent. You make it seem like I'm going to be done and trialed for knowing all of this. Wait, are you?_'

For once today, Gibbs smiled.

/


	2. Part TWO

_I'm sorry I wrote one-shot in the other AN, so PLEASE stop begging me to continue this. This is obviously a twoshot, okay? OKAY. No more of the begging and the puppy eyes. I can't take it anymore. Oh, and thank you, _**SamayouTamashi **_for giving me the praise that she did and the criticism, along with the rest of you that also reviewed. It warmed my heart._:)

_Seriously, I'm sorry that it's so short compare to the last chapter, but...yeah. It's sort of like, tying up loose ends. Short, blunt, and to the point—I'm not trying to stretch this out for long. _

_._

**e x c e p t i o n a l  
><strong>_slide and switch / move and hitch  
>watch me<br>_(because we're exceptional.)

_._

After a few more minutes of chatting, Ziva ended the call and slapped her phone shut. She turned to Gibbs, who had turned on the elevator's emergency switch to normal. 'So, what do you think of him?'

'How old is he?' Gibbs asked immediately, facing the steel doors. 'He didn't sound older than twenty.'

Ziva chuckled, but Tony could detect a bit of—was that sorrow? 'Well, I'll let him tell you. It's...not my place.' Seeing Gibbs' raised eyebrow, she explained, 'There is a long story. You'll understand when he gets here.' She fell silent, as if she had just said something she shouldn't have. It was mind-boggling for all of the men on the team to see Ziva this way; usually, she was confident, so sure of herself, loyal to a fault to Gibbs. Right now, she seemed more...worried and frazzled...almost _motherly. _Or, that could be sister-ly. Or it might've been Tony, but she had more than just conflicting feelings for this mysterious Brit.

Alex, on the other hand, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had parked and checked his car for any damage; luckily, other than one or two stray bullets that he could fix, nothing had too much damage. But still..._his car..._Sighing, he tapped the screen on his phone and put it toward his ear. One ring, then two. He tapped his foot impatiently.

Finally, someone answered. '_Agent Rider,_' came the curt voice of Mrs. Jones; Alex's face twitched up into a small smile. Despite her emotionless and blank persona, he could tell that she was genuinely worried. '_Is something the matter?_'

'Permission,' he said in a way of explanation. 'I have a friend whose in NCIS, a sort of police force for the Navy. She's on the Heifermann case, and they've come up at a dead end. I was wondering if you would call it off with their director...?' He grinned, almost sheepishly, even though Mrs. Jones couldn't see it on the other end.

'_Of course,_' she replied shortly. '_If that is necessary for the operation._'

'It is.'

There was the short pause where he heard Mrs. Jones type something on her computer—she was _actually _at her desk, go figure—and the short chat of some distant personnel before her voice filtered through again. '_Consider it done. Anything else, Alex?_'

Alex hesitated, before sighing. 'Well, that same friend and her teammates want to know about SCORPIA. I was wondering if I had permission to...?'

'_Not specific details containing your past missions,_' she said reproachfully. '_Those are top secret. Basic things. You may list a few instances that involved SCORPIA, along with some of the dead board members, if they are adamant for names. But only the ones that are dead and arrested; do not reveal anything that you are related more than necessary to SCORPIA._' Alex grunted in response. '_This is a good thing, in fact. If more people are aware of SCORPIA, the more allies we have to bring them down._'

Alex snorted. 'If they don't get in the way.'

'_Yes,_' Mrs. Jones agreed, '_There is that. Good day, Alex. I assume that you want your flight changed...?_'

'Yeah,' he said distractedly, placing himself inside the car once again, starting it up. 'That would be good. Three days at best I'll be here, but no promises.'

'_Three days_,' she repeated. '_Until then, Agent Rider._' And then her side of the conversation was cut off.

Alex scoffed and look at the phone with disinterest. 'Same old Jones,' he murmured, before flipping his phone shut and stuffing it in his pocket. Taking a long look at it, he sighed and clicked it on, hearing the familiar beep of the class-three armored vehicle. He wasn't in a far off place, so he just decided to park in the hotel's back area, where the trash was being taken out and such. They didn't know of him or his real identity, so Alex threw a tarp over the car—one that was left in his trunk—before searching his wallet for money and coming up triumphantly with a MetroCard still in use.

_Good thing these things have long life, _he mused, looking both ways for the nearest bus station. _Now, how the hell do I get to NCIS headquarters again...?_

/

Team Gibbs was almost antsy when Alex arrived, but he was met with Ziva's crushing hug—literally crushing—and the amused glances of her teammates. Or, by the way one of them was looking at him sourly, the unpleasantness of jealous coworkers. Beside the unhappy one was a short, slightly chubby man with a baby face and bright eyes that smiled his way. The silver haired one stared at him, hard, before nodding and acknowledging his presence. There was a dark-skinned man beside them and Alex's eyes lit up when he met them.

Ziva let him go and led him over to the group, quietly saying, 'You're not hurt anywhere, are you?' At Alex's denial, she stared at him as though probing for lies, but then seemed satisfied when she couldn't come up with any. Alex stood awkwardly in front of them, his eyes on the director of NCIS.

'Leon,' he acknowledged, slowly grinning.

'Alex,' the other man replied back, face twitching up in a smile. 'You've grown.'

He cocked his head and gave an amused smile. 'Obviously.' The blonde seemed to bite his cheek before grinning and saying, 'You know, the last time I saw you, I was bothering you with your cases and you were ready to hit me over the head with Kelsey's paperwork.' The name Kelsey was hung in the air, leaving the agents confused, but Leon chuckled.

'Yes, well,' he straightened. 'Those were the old days.' He turned to see the stunned faces of his agents, Gibbs excluded, but Leon was sure that he was surprised all the same. He motioned to the men. 'These are the people we're working with. Special Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee.' He waved to each in correspondence. 'Agents, this is Agent Rider, of the Special Operations division of MI6.'

'Ooh, now I need extra copies of the OSA,' Alex glared at Leon. 'Thanks, Vance.'

'You two...know each other?' Tony said, looking between them, vocalizing what every one of them was thinking. Ziva shook her head. 'I'm not surprised,' she sighed. 'Alex knows practically half the world's agencies by hand.'

Said teen shrugged. 'What can I say? I'm popular.'

'What does she mean by that?' Tony said, crossing his arms and shifting.

He shrugged again, a motion they were realizing he did a lot. 'I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.' he said lightly. Ziva smacked him on the arm, and to the others' surprise (save Leon) he only sniggered good-heartedly. And Ziva's slaps hurt. 'Okay, okay,' he revised, 'We need to be in a secure place where no one's watching us so I can talk.' Alex tilted his head, moving some blonde hair across his shoulder. 'And _you _need to get SecNav on the line. Plus three copies of the OSA.'

'SecNav?' Leon raised an eyebrow. 'What do you need with him?' Once again, ignoring the 'OSA' thing.

Alex sniffed. 'Ah...case-sensitive stuff, sorry,' he smiled apologetically. 'You know how it is.' There was a silence, Leon gazing at Alex intently, yet the teenager didn't seem to be at all fazed by it. Gibbs was unnaturally silent, waiting for him to make the first move. Finally, Leon said, 'Ziva, take him, DiNozzo, and McGee to MTAC,' he started. 'I'll be there in a second.' Ziva nodded and took Alex by the elbow, who followed her casually.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Gibbs turned around and demanded, 'How do you know him?'

Leon let out a breath, knowing that this was coming. 'I've worked with him once before,' he admitted. 'Years ago. He's nothing if not capable and I trust him fully, Gibbs.' There was a pause. 'In fact, I've missed Alex. He was like a little brother that never went away. I'm glad you told me about this.' Gibbs knew that this wasn't because of professional reasons; this was highly personal and Leon wasn't afraid of admitting it.

After a moment, the ex-marine said, 'Let's get going to MTAC.'

'Hell knows if SecNav is even available at this time,' Tony remarked dryly, sitting in one of the seats before the big screen. 'Having so many things to do, you know.'

Alex shrugged. 'He'll come through,' he answered cryptically. He was standing off to the side, sunglasses perched up on his head, not at all looking like he was just in a car chase that involved bullets and a most probably bruised shoulder. He stood with a calm intensity that unnerved people that didn't know him—like Tony and McGee, for example. Even so, they waited patiently, Ziva beside Alex, until Gibbs came in along with Leon.

The director motioned to another worker for a set of headphones, when he got immediately. 'Patch me through to the Secretary of the Navy,' he said confidently, and the worker nodded and pressed a few buttons. There was a brief pause before the brilliantly colored screen turned to a white background, the Secretary of the Navy standing in front of it, looking a bit harried but nothing huge.

'_I hope that this is important, Director,_' he grunted. '_I've got a meeting to get to that won't settle for latecomers._'

'It is.' Leon said shortly. 'I, myself don't know the reason why I'm talking to you—'

'_Then _why_ are you still connected?_'

'—but Agent Rider seems to converse about something important,' he finished lightly. Immediately, a change was seen in the white-haired man; to Tony's shock (along with others) SecNav chuckled, and his face became a tad bit warmer, as if remembering a particularly fond memory.

Alex stepped into view, his own headphones strapped firmly around his head. 'Long time no see,' he said, flashing the other a smile. 'Don't worry about that meeting—COBRA, right?' SecNav nodded. Alex waved it away. 'They'll understand.'

SecNav raised an eyebrow. '_You're supposed to be there yourself._' he said, admonishing slightly. Alex shrugged. 'Uh, well...' he coughed into his fist. 'There was a few..complications, you could say.' the blonde shuffled awkwardly and gave a truly sorrowful glance at Ziva, pleading her to forgive him. The woman was taken aback slightly, sending him a questioning look, but Alex didn't answer it. 'If you guys don't mind...' Alex bit his lip. 'I'm afraid I can't let you guys hear this part. You too, Leon.'

'Now wait a second—' Gibbs put a hand on Tony's chest, stopping what he was about to say, looking between Alex and SecNav and nodded slowly.

'Ten minutes,' he said shortly, before waving his team out the door. Ziva was still pondering about the look that Alex had given her and Leon came out a minute afterward, looking a bit harried and frowning. They stood still for a moment before McGee took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and asked his co-workers, 'What do you think that was about?'

'He needs to talk something over,' Ziva said immediately, looking at the metal door that let into the top-secret area. 'But what, I don't know.' _He definitely feels guilty about it, or at least sad. Maybe even a bit nervous... _Ziva shook the thought out of her head. Alex was rarely ever nervous. She knew that he felt sadness and guilt many times before—the one time he had a breakdown in Israel with her was horrible—but she also knew that it didn't happen often.

Tony was glaring at the door distrustfully. Despite having a cool car and a charming smile, he didn't trust Alex one bit. And even though Ziva said that she only thought of Alex as her brother, it was still odd, seeing her care about him so deeply that it showed. He looked young...Tony didn't know that Ziva was into those type of guys...

Everyone being lost in their musings, no one saw Gibbs retract a phone from his belt, pressing it against his ear for a fraction of a minute before saying 'Alright' and closing it again. 'Hey!' he said loudly, starting to walk down the stairs toward the elevator. 'Abby has something for us. Come on—Tony, you stay here and call me when Alex comes out.'

Tony twitched, but didn't move.

/

'Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs!' a hyperactive woman practically squealed, sounding more like a valley girl than her her style presumed; she was decked in black, from the color of her hair to the tattoos on her neck to the chunky boots she had on. Only her lab coat was white, and it bounced up and down as she did in excitement. Only when Gibbs placed a hand on her head did she stop.

'Calm,' he reminded, before letting go. 'Whaddya got for me, Abs?'

Abby grinned widely, her dark red lips a startling contrast against her pale skin. 'Okay, so you know the clean-up crew, right?' She didn't wait for him to give the affirmative, instead continuing on. 'Well, one of them accidentally slid his phone across the road—don't ask me how, I heard it was a bet.' she defended when Gibbs raised an eyebrow. 'Well, they went across the street to get it, and guess what? Ta-da! They found blood stained on one of the sides of the house, right on the gutter.' She had a smug smile on her face. 'Something happened there, and the blood could have been if someone scraped themselves getting down from the roof—a perfect position to—'

'Assassinate Major Gen. Heifermann,' Ziva breathed, eyes wide.

'Who is it?' Gibbs asked bluntly, ignoring the rookie mistake and calling it out.

Abby pouted. 'Well, I've been running it through AVIS, and there are _no _matches. Well, as in, there are matches, but there are so _many _of them—like, lots of numbers, all with different names.'

'...Excuse me?' Ziva asked, affronted.

'Are you telling me that this blood sample belongs to _hundreds _of people?' Gibbs looked a bit stunned now, if not anything. That was not possible, and Ziva was focusing on the large plasma screen now.

'Not exactly hundreds,' Abby corrected, 'but rather like...tens. Names like John Tylers, Micheal Corscott, Ravi Salmuni, Elizah Al-Hamidi—'

'Wait, what?'

Abby stared at her. 'Elizah Al-Hamidi,' she repeated slowly, taking in Ziva's slowly paling face. 'Ziva? Are you okay?'

'No.' Her voice was sullen and empty. 'No, I know your killer.'

'You do?' Gibbs raised a brow.

'Yes,' she said, shoulders slumping, looking toward the door as if it would provide some kind of escape. 'He's in this this building, as a matter of fact, in MTAC. Talking to SecNav.'

/

Alex had barely gotten out of MTAC with Tony by his side when he was faced with a very angry, stony-faced Gibbs. The gray haired man walked right up to Alex, both at the same height, and looked him straight in the eye. 'I don't want to hear your excuses,' he snarled. 'Why did you do it?'

Unfazed, the blonde spy replied, 'Because I was told to.'

Tony looked back and forth between his boss and the seventeen year-old boy, unsure of what was going on. He kept a hand close to the waistband of his pants, where his gun was located, because it seemed as thought something was going to happen soon and it was going to be violent—be it verbal or physical. His eyes flickered to the lithe form of Ziva's, who was running up behind them, a peculiar light in her eyes. Tony only realized it a second later—betrayal. And understanding.

'Major General Conner Heifermann,' Alex started, his voice robotic. 'Renowned military officer. Navy. SEALs. Sold nuclear weapons from the plant that he was in charge of to SCORPIA and Blackbird, once to COBRA, and many times to snakehead and Al-Qaeda.' Alex cocked his head. 'Are you finding justice for the man that ruined your country?'

Tony sucked in a sharp breath.

'It doesn't matter. All it matters is that you killed him.' Gibbs snarled, a murderous look on his face. Tony wasn't sure what for; being fooled by a kid or knowing that Alex was actually right; Tony knew that Gibbs wanted to think the same way, let the whole thing go as a cold case, but something about Alex set him off, and Tony didn't know what.

'I did.' Alex agreed. 'I shot him in the head. You should get the papers from England soon. A copy of the OSA too.'

'Why did you come here if you killed him?' Ziva said, demanding. 'You knew that I was working on this case, knew that I was in NCIS—...' she bit her lip.

Alex softened. 'I didn't actually.' The corner of his lip quirked. 'I knew that you were working with NCIS, but that was about it. I really didn't know what the hell that was for, or what it searched. I talked with Joe Byrne too if that makes you feel any better.' He shrugged nonchalantly. 'All I wanted to do was meet up with some old friends.'

'Joe Byrne?' Tony repeated, surprised. 'As in, CIA's Joe Byrne?'

'The one, and only,' he nodded.

A muscle in Gibbs' jaw twitched. He turned around and walked away, like he hadn't been talking with him a moment earlier. Three pairs of eyes followed his way as he disappeared around the orange-walled corner into another hallway; most probably to get another coffee to calm himself.

'That wasn't smart,' Tony advised. 'You made him mad.'

'No,' Ziva replied absentmindedly. 'I don't think he's mad at Alex. I think he's mad_ for _Alex.'

'It doesn't matter,' Alex said, tired. He rubbed the side of his face, pushing slightly against his temple. 'Anyways, we can't let this leak. MI6 has already been hounding me lately, this'll just make them angrier. I'm sorry that our reunion had to end so badly, Ziva. Maybe next time I come, it won't be on a mission.'

Ziva stared at him for a minute and nodded. 'You're leaving?'

'I have to,' he shrugged. 'Jones with kill me if I don't. I've spent enough time here as it is.' His looked a little uncomfortable. 'They don't usually send me out for assassinations. I guess this is taking a toll on me.' he sighed. 'See you later. I'll call you on the plane.' Alex gave a small salute and Ziva hugged him, watching his back as he disappeared behind the metal doors of the elevator.

'What was that all about?' Tony asked quietly.

The Israeli's eyes flickered to him. 'Alex or Gibbs?'

'Alex.'

Ziva pursed her lips. 'Promise you won't tell,' she said in a whisper. 'A few years ago, Alex had joined SCORPIA. As in, he worked for them and trained with them, became an assassin. He quit quickly afterward—I still don't understand most of it, because he never told me the full story, but something happened and now he hates SCORPIA with a passion. He's been working for years to bring it down and many times, he came close. The only reason he took this job when he usually does espionage, my guess, is because Heifermann was part of SCORPIA.'

Tony was silent. He took some time to soak this all in. Then, 'Gibbs?'

Ziva grimaced. 'You know Gibbs. He doesn't like the idea of Alex being a spy. He doesn't like the fact that a country has a teenager—someone who should be having fun, drinking, partying, not worrying for his life—diffusing bombs and killing terrorists.'

'Yeah,' Tony agreed. 'I can understand that.'

Ziva shot him a look. 'You know that he'll try to avoid you and the rest of the team the next time he comes?'

Tony gave her a grin. 'Hey, at least there'll _be _a next time.'

And, until then, they'd have to wait to figure out the mystery that was Alex Rider.

/


End file.
